Poetry, Official Palace Language of Wow: Another Gem from Thanks Help Wow

IMG_1595On an ice-glazed morning, today’s reading thaws my cockles. Thanks again, Annie L:

When all is said and done, spring is the main reason for Wow. Spring is crazy, being all hope and beauty and glory. She is the resurrection. Spring is Gerard Manley Hopkins, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. / It will flame out, like shining from shook foil.” 

Buds opening and releasing, mud and cutting winds, bright green grass and blue skies, nests full of baby birds. All of these are deserving of Wow—even though I have said elsewhere that spring is also about deer ticks—and everywhere you look, couples are falling in love, and the air is saturated with the scent of giddiness and doom. Petals are wafting and falling slowly through the air, and there is something so Ravel, languorous, reminding me to revel in the beauty of things wafting.

Only two months to crocuses.

spring
spring

A Gem from Help, Thanks, Wow: A Word About Heart Armor

via Boing Boing
via Boing Boing

“Sin is not the adult bookstore on the corner. It is the hard heart, the lack of generosity, and all the isms, racism and sexism and so forth. But is there a crack where a ribbon of light might get in, might sneak past all the roadblocks and piles of stones, mental and emotional and cultural?”

Anne Lamott, “Help, Thanks, Wow” (p. 62)

The truth in this quote seized me from the pages of one of my Christmas gifts, but typed up on this 17-inch screen the words are damning. My heart is tender, too tender, and so I have learned, finally, to seal it up tight to keep the hurtful barbs of life and crushing betrayals from causing more cardiac damage. But then, at what point does guarding this most critical muscle give way to hardening? And isn’t a hardened heart far more tragic than a broken heart?

Guard your heart for it is the wellspring of life.

Check out the stunning portfolio of futuristic armored organs at Viaframe.

My Next Right Thing This Morning

I had a writing professor who recommended copying, literally, tangibly, work by authors whose style most lights your writing fuse. Pick an author, prop open a book, lay it next to the laptop, and type the words, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters until, I suppose, some sort of osmosis (and muscle memory?) occurs. The professor is more a hardboiled fiction guy, so Elmore Leonard is an author whose dialogue, voice, rhythm, pace, and word choice he might be likely to transcribe in this exercise. When I finally get around to trying it for literary purposes, you’ll find me with David Mitchell or Anne Lamott next to my computer.

But this morning, the following words from the book open on my lap begged for this transcription treatment. In an attempt to absorb the heart of the words into my cells, I will type them out here. I hope it works. Today, it’s my next right thing.

Lord, you have assigned me my portion, and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. 

Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices [my tongue rejoices? what does that even look like? how does that sound? it’s on me to figure it out!]; my body also will rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the grave, nor will you let your Holy One see decay.

You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.*

*Psalm 16:5-11